


Giving In Is Better With You

by FictionalNutter



Series: Giving 'verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, D/s, Dom Sam Winchester, Dom/sub, Guilty Dean Winchester, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Power Dynamics, Spanking, Sub Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 23:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3997381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalNutter/pseuds/FictionalNutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a request from CatJetRat, this is a continuation of 'Giving In.' </p><p>Sam has his soul back, but a freak accident on a hunt starts triggering memories from his time without a soul. Pairing that with the looks Dean's been giving him, and Sam starts to wonder exactly what kind of relationship his soulless self had with his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giving In Is Better With You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CatJetRat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatJetRat/gifts).



Most of the time, Dean seemed happy, Sam thought. The older Winchester glanced at his younger brother frequently, a fond look in his eye and a sense of relief so strong that Sam would never call him on it. Sam had his soul back, and Dean seemed, for the most part, to be ecstatic. They had been back in each other's arms within moments of Sam waking up, and Sam had tucked himself against Dean in bed that night without a thought. Things had been strained for some of the time before Sam had jumped into the cage, but they'd reconciled by the time Sam had actually done it. Dean didn't seem to have any protest against Sam joining him, and Sam didn't want to be apart from Dean, even he was simply in the next bed over.

As time passed, Sam began to realize that something was different. Dean hid the looks of relief and gratitude that Sam was alive and safe, but he also hid looks of longing and guilt. Sam had first noticed it when they'd gotten into a fight after Dean had nearly gotten himself killed misdirecting a spirit's attention. It had been after Sam, then all of a sudden it had been after Dean. If Sam wasn't good at thinking on his feet, Dean might have been killed. As it was, Sam took out the bones and the spirit vanished, leaving the elder hunter breathing heavy and the younger hunter extremely frustrated. They'd argued, about how Dean didn't need to jump into danger just because Sam was the target of whatever monster they were after. Dean didn't agree, which was the problem. Still, as Sam snapped a particular rebuttal at his brother, he saw a sudden flash of longing in his brother's eyes, chased away almost immediately by guilt.

Once he knew what to look for, Sam noticed the same look happen quite a bit. It always seemed to coincide with a time Sam was more forceful than usual, either because of an argument or general frustration. If he was in any way aggressive around or towards his brother, Dean got the look.

It was a fluke of a case that led to the answer. Ghost possession was a bitch, and somehow it had managed to get into Dean. Having his older brother push out at him and fling him across the room wasn't exactly Sam's idea of a good time. He knocked his head solidly against a beam, but it didn't quite knock him out. Thank goodness for small favors, because that allowed him the brief window he needed to torch the fingernail clippings (it was a long and gross story) that were keeping the ghost on Earth and in Dean's head. Then, he promptly passed out.

Sam awoke to a panicked brother and a serious headache.

"Sammy? You with me?" Dean demanded, relief clear in his voice. 

Fairly certain his groan hadn't quite turned into words as it was meant to, Sam blinked a few times before trying again. "Wha...happened?" He managed to get out. He blinked again, clearing his vision so he could see Dean more clearly.

Dean's expression was unreadable behind the relief he was letting through. "You got knocked out, on the hunt," he explained. "While you were out you had a seizure." His eyes clouded with remnants of the panic he'd shown before.

"Oh." Sam squinted at the ceiling light, then turned back to Dean. "How long?"

"You were out for almost six hours," Dean bit out, expression stormy. "How do you feel?"

"Exhausted," Sam admitted. "Not...bad, though. No scary Hell memories, I don't think." He evaluated himself for a minute, then nodded. "No, I think I'm okay. Just a little off. Head injury, you know."

"Uh-huh. Well, we're staying put for at least a day or two just in case. I don't want to rock the boat." Dean's expression clearly said there would be no argument, so Sam just nodded.

As Dean stood and bent down to pick something off the ground - Sam couldn't see what and didn't feel like moving - a flash seemed to appear before his eyes and Sam was abruptly in a memory. He was looking down at Dean in the memory, hand gripped tight in his brother's hair and his hips moving forward forcefully, filth spilling from his mouth as he made his brother take it. Just as quickly, Sam jolted out of the memory, gasping and blinking rapidly.

"What the hell was that?!" Dean demanded, looking panicked. He was standing again, leaning over Sam a little to make sure there wasn't some tangible sign of Sam's distress.

"Uh...flashback, I think," Sam answered, still a little shocked. "Not Hell though, don't worry." He was pretty damn positive he hadn't ever forced his brother to deep throat him, least of all while locked inside the cage. Lucifer was creative, but he wasn't  _that_ creative.

"Then what?" Dean asked, his tone strangely paranoid.

Sam tried to get a read on his brother, unsure what Dean was so worried about him remembering. "It's nothing," he lied. "I'll be fine. Do we have anything in the kit?"

Dean interpreted that correctly as a request for drugs, and immediately went to retrieve the medication Sam kept on hand for headaches. "Yeah, here. You sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine," Sam assured him, not entirely convinced himself.

* * *

 

By the time Dean declared it time to move on, Sam had already had more than ten flashbacks of himself forcefully dominating his brother in bed. He'd managed to hide them all from Dean's notice so far, but he didn't like his odds of that continuing for long. What really bothered him about the flashbacks was that he couldn't tell how Dean was reacting in any of them. He remembered his own pleasure well enough, but it wasn't clear if Dean was willing or being forced.

That was the main reason Sam hadn't brought it up with Dean, aside from not wanting him to worry. If he had forced Dean into sex, in any way, and Dean just wanted to forget about it, then Sam wouldn't be the one to shatter that construct for his brother.

Then again, Sam wasn't stupid. It didn't take horribly long to connect his flashbacks with the looks he was getting from Dean. Maybe he had forced Dean, Sam wasn't sure, but if he had, he was almost certain his brother had enjoyed it. There wasn't really another explanation.

That still didn't give Sam an answer one way or the other. Did he bring it up or stay quiet?

The new motel they were staying at was a little bit nicer than the one before, with a bigger bed and a nice headboard that Dean had made a lascivious comment about when they'd checked in. If Sam wanted to make a move, he was in a good place to do it. Dean might respond better to action than discussion, but this wasn't something Sam could just start doing out of the blue. They needed to discuss it, especially the guilt Sam could tell associated the memories for Dean.

Dean got back from a food run to find Sam seated in one of the room's chairs, the other pulled out so it was ready for Dean. One look at Sam's face made it clear that Sam wanted to talk. Dean sighed heavily and set the food on the table, then dropped into the seat. "What is it, Sam?" He asked tiredly.

"You're not going to like it, but I think we need to have this conversation," Sam said firmly.

Dean waved a hand vaguely. "Go ahead," he sighed, resigned.

Sam hesitated, not sure how best to start the conversation. He decided to just go for blunt and work from whatever reaction he got. "What was our sexual relationship like before I got my soul back?" He asked.

Had Dean been drinking, he would have spewed liquid everywhere. As it was, he started choking on his own saliva. "Excuse me?" He demanded, glaring up at Sam.

"I'm remembering things," Sam said frankly. "I need to know what it was from your perspective."

Dean immediately sobered. "What the hell are you remembering?!"

Sam shook his head. "You first. What aren't you telling me?"

Dean hesitated for a long moment before speaking. "Look, Sam--"

"Just tell me, Dean," Sam said firmly. "I'm not letting this go on any further. We're doing this now."

Dean scowled, but slowly relaxed and shook his head. "Okay, you wanna know what happened? What happened is that I wasn't sure at first what was up with you, but it started becoming clear even before Cas figured out your soul was gone. You - soulless you - had all these rules, about what I could and couldn't do while we were hunting together. I thought he was just full of it, so I wasn't paying too much attention. That first time, I ignored a phone call from him because I was at a bar. When I got back to the motel room, he pulled me over his knee, spanked me so hard I saw stars, then worked me open and came inside me before I'd even realized we were having sex. It was quick and efficient. When I tried to demand what the hell he thought he was doing, he told me I'd broken one of the rules, so there was punishment. Then he laid out a bunch of other potential consequences, and I tried to call bullshit. So he wrestled me down and put me in a cock cage for three weeks. Whenever I was too belligerent, that's what happened. If I followed the rules, it was just regular domination, nothing too harsh, but if I broke a rule, I got punished. If I consistently broke rules, it was the cock cage. Once I found out what was wrong with you - him - I felt guilty as hell, but I couldn't make myself stop. I  _enjoyed_ it, Sammy. What the hell does that say about me? My baby brother was in  _Hell_ , and I was enjoying being submissive to his soulless body." Dean stopped, breathing harshly, and looking anywhere but at Sam.

It was quiet for a moment, before Sam tentatively asked, "So, it was...consensual?"

Dean's head jerked up, meeting Sam's eyes for the first time. "That's what you're worried about?" When Sam nodded, Dean shook his head and laughed once. "No, Sam, you - he - didn't force me. I didn't necessarily go along skipping and singing, but I sure as hell didn't fight back."

Sam's brow furrowed. "That doesn't sound like consent to me."

"Oh for--! Look, Sam, you - he - whatever, I wasn't raped, okay? Do I need to spell it out? I swear, you didn't hurt me. At least, never more than I was able to enjoy." Dean shifted uncomfortably.

"I started having flashbacks," Sam explained. "Me doing things to you, but I could never tell if you were willing or if I was forcing myself on you. I just needed to know. Then, you kept giving me these looks--"

"That's the sickest part," Dean interrupted. "I have you back, the real you, and we're great, and I have everything I want in bed with you, I swear, but I get these stupid moments where I  _miss_ it, and what the hell is wrong with me, that I actually  _miss_ that?!"

Sam held up a hand, stopping Dean before he could continue. "It's a legitimate sexual lifestyle, Dean," he pointed out. When Dean made a face and looked away, Sam made a noise of derision. "Stop it, don't check out of this conversation. Maybe elements of what you had with me when my soul was gone were...inadvisable...but we can try and find a balance."

"No," Dean replied automatically. "I'm not letting you do that just because you think I need some sick validation or something."

"This isn't just for you," Sam argued. "In every flashback, I can feel that pleasure, so don't think I won't be getting something out of this. I may not want to beat the hell out of you for irritating me, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to spank you for fun. Trust me, I think we'll both come out all the better for it."

Dean looked thoroughly conflicted. "I don't..." He trailed off, expression clearly uncertain.

"Look, how about a trial run?" Sam offered. "You don't like it, things go back to normal. We don't need to have any kind of power dynamics or anything, I swear. Just, one night, okay? Let's see how it goes."

Dean let out a slow breath, expression wary now. "What do you have in mind?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You trust me?"

"Of course," Dean replied without hesitation.

"Then let me tie you to the headboard and take charge. That's all." Sam leaned forward, towards Dean. "If this works for us, we'll do it our way. Not the screwed up way you had before, but the real way, where you're submitting to someone that actually loves you."

Dean was breathing heavy, and he blinked a few times to rid himself of what might have been a tear or two. "Yeah, okay," he managed to reply, nodding once.

"Pick a safeword," Sam instructed.

Dean made a face, surprised by the order. "What? Why?"

"This kind of stuff is about trust, Dean," Sam reminded him. "I want you to know that you can trust me to stop if you need it."

"I already trust you to do that," Dean pointed out.

Sam smiled. "Humor me."

"Fine," Dean huffed. "Uh...Apple?"

"Asking or telling?" Sam prompted, amused.

"Telling," Dean replied, making a face at his brother. "Apple. Happy now?"

Sam stood, holding out his hand to Dean. "Extremely. Come on."

Dean stood, taking Sam's hand and meeting his eyes with trepidation. "What do you want me to do?" He asked, hesitation starting to appear again.

"Undress," Sam stated, though his tone made it sound like a request. "Slowly, then come over to the bed." Sam took a seat on the side of the bed, watching Dean expectantly.

Dean might have expected to be embarrassed, but it was oddly sensual to remove his clothes like that for Sam. Without a soul, the process had always been quick, about making Dean vulnerable as quickly as possible. This was about the sheer enjoyment of Dean's unclothed body, something Sam had always been vocal in his appreciation of. Dean finished with his shirts and removed his boots and socks in a swift movement, then began to inch his pants down.

Sam raised an eyebrow at the lack of underwear, but didn't comment. Instead, he eyed Dean's half-hard erection coming into view, thinking about exactly what he might try once he had his brother laid out and at his mercy.

As soon as Dean was naked, Sam held up a finger and hooked it towards himself, prompting Dean to come over. "Lay down, wrists above your head," Sam instructed. When Dean complied, Sam pulled a folded tie out of his pocket and leaned forward, deftly wrapping it around Dean's wrists and through the bars of the headboard, securing it with several knots. "Good?" He prompted, tugging at the bonds slightly.

Dean pulled on the tie slightly, then nodded. "Yeah," he choked out. He could get out if he really need to, but the knots wouldn't give to general struggling in the way of passion, which was what Dean figured he should be expecting. He found himself relaxing with the bonds, and soon he was boneless underneath Sam.

Moving down his brother's body, Sam trailed a finger up Dean's erection, grinning as he became fully erect. "Ground rules," he stated, catching Dean's eye. "Don't come until I tell you to, and use your safeword if you have to. Got it?"

Dean groaned, but nodded. "Got it. Get on with it already!"

Sam swatted at Dean's thigh, smirking at him. "Don't be so impatient," he chastised. Without warning, he leaned down and enveloped Dean's erection with his mouth, years of practice aiding him in taking his brother's entire cock at once. He sucked hard, then backed off and began licking at the head, grinning at the sounds he was drawing from his brother.

"Oh my g--SAM!" Dean yelped at a particularly well timed swipe of tongue.

Sam swallowed Dean down again and chuckled, the vibrations causing his brother to practically squeak in reaction.

"I'm gonna come if you don't stop!" Dean gasped out, eyes wide.

Sam withdrew at once, releasing Dean's cock and sitting up with a grin. "Well, we can't have that," he teased.

Dean's head fell back against the pillow as he groaned again. "You're going to kill me," he griped.

"Hush," Sam scolded lightly, winking when his brother glared at him. Straightening slightly, Sam stripped off his shirts, revealing skin for the first time since they'd started. Dean wolf-whistled, and Sam barked a laugh as he shed the bottom half of his clothing. He had been keeping his own erection distant from his concentration, but he was about ready to change that.

"This mean we're getting to the good stuff?" Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, I'm sorry, was the blowjob not up to your standards?" Sam asked dryly, raising an eyebrow.

Dean's expression changed immediately to mild chagrin. "No, that was..." he trailed off, coughing with embarrassment. "Yeah, no, that was good." 

"Then maybe you should stop complaining," Sam suggested, narrowing his eyes but keeping a playful expression.

"Yes, Sir," Dean replied immediately, eyes wide in anticipation.

Sam paused, looking as though the comment had interrupted a thought. "You didn't call me that when my soul was gone," he stated, eyes raised as though trying to recall for sure.

"Uh...no," Dean admitted. "You - he - never asked, so I chose not to."

"We can discuss it more later," Sam pointed out, "but if you're comfortable with that, I'd like you to use it."

Dean nodded emphatically. He couldn't quite give in fully to the soulless version of his brother, but this Sam? This Sam he would gladly give in for. "Yes, Sir," Dean repeated, smiling softly so the message was clear.

Sam understood and nodded once in acknowledgement. Tapping Dean's hip, Sam ordered, "Turn over, onto your front."

Dean groaned in protest, but obeyed, adjusting the position of his arms and the tie, thrusting into the sheets for friction as he did so.

Sam smacked Dean's bare ass and shook his head, even though Dean couldn't see him. "None of that," he chided. "Spread your legs wider."

"Are you going to spank me?" Dean asked breathlessly.

Sam grinned. "Almost," he replied. Kneeling between his brother's legs, Sam reached forward to spread his cheeks so Dean's entrance was on prominent display. "I wanted to experiment a little."

"What's that supposed to--OH GOD!" Dean jolted forwards, hands tightening around the tie as Sam brought two fingers down hard against Dean's asshole.

Sam laughed, pleased by the response. "I thought that might get your attention."

"More, Sir, please!" Dean requested eagerly, pushing back towards Sam in a motion he might have been embarrassed by if he'd been paying attention any longer.

Sam obliged, raining two fingered smacks down on Dean's entrance, relishing each noise the smacks brought. He continued on for a few moments, counting in his head until he reached twenty. "That's a good round number," Sam commented with amusement.

Dean groaned in disappointment.

"Dean, if I continued, what would likely happen?" Sam asked, tone expectant.

"I'd come, Sir," Dean admitted reluctantly.

"And when would you like to come?" Sam prompted.

"When you're inside me," Dean replied immediately.

"That's what I thought." Sam bent over the end of the bed, retrieving the closest duffel bag and rummaging through it until he found the lube. "Don't worry, I'm not going to make you wait too long." He ignored Dean's sigh of relief as he popped the cap on the lube and slicked up the two fingers he'd been smacking Dean's hole with.

Dean jolted again when he felt Sam's fingers enter him, but he relaxed almost immediately, adjusting his legs again. "More!" He demanded.

Sam smacked at Dean's ass in response, but didn't otherwise chastise him. Dean was hardly a virgin, and he didn't need to be coddled through this part. Sam was soon up to three fingers, scissoring them as Dean keened under him, begging him to just get on with it already.

Dean felt a thrill as he heard the sound of Sam slicking up to enter him. It was hardly the first time, and not even the first time since Sam had been re-souled, but as Sam thrust forward, it felt like an entirely new experience. "Sir, please," Dean gasped.

Sam thrust a few times experimentally, then found his rhythm, adjusting his angle as soon as he could tell he'd hit Dean's prostate. He gripped Dean's hips tightly, pulling his brother towards himself with each thrust and relishing the cries that came from him with each motion.

"Sir--! I'm gonna--" Dean's words grew choppy, but the meaning was clear.

Sam reached around and gripped Dean's cock in his hand, matching the rhythm of his own thrusts as he stroked his brother closer. "Now, Dean!" He called out.

Dean practically screamed his release, collapsing against the bed and dimly aware of the feeling of Sam's cock leaving him and the dripping sensation that followed. Gentle hands removed the tie a moment later, and Dean found himself rolled over onto Sam's lap.

"So." Sam was a little out of breath, but sounded relatively casual. "How was that?"

"Awesome," Dean muttered, too boneless to do much of anything.

Sam chuckled and got to his feet, letting Dean relax on the mattress. "I'll be right back with a washcloth and some water, all right?"

Dean lazily raised a thumbs up in response, and managed a grin at the chuckle he got in answer. He wasn't sure where he stood on everything that had happened while Sam was soulless, but the fact that his brother was not only willing but eager to make this work spoke volumes, and Dean couldn't help but love him even more for it.

* * *

 

After about two weeks and quite a few very successful experiments, Dean had an epiphany.

Sam came out of the gas station and got into the Impala, only to find Dean staring at him. "What? Have I got something on my face?" He wiped absently at his cheeks, just in case.

"No, it's just..." Dean trailed off, then blurted, "You haven't had a nightmare or flashback or anything in  _days_."

"Oh!" Sam looked surprised. "Yeah, I have a theory about that."

"Which is...?" Dean prompted.

"I think the control is helping," Sam admitted.

"Controlling me keeps your nightmares at bay?" Dean deadpanned, looking highly skeptical.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Not controlling you, smartass, controlling me. I have to be controlled in order to be able to do what we've been doing, and that's helping redirect my focus. I'm not even thinking about Hell or any of the rest of it because I'm so focused on us. So, I've been sleeping better and haven't been spacing out or anything."

Dean grinned. "So what you're saying is my ass has magical healing powers."

Sam snorted and shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Sure, Dean, whatever you say." He smiled fondly at his brother, appreciating the way his face looked with happiness on it.

Dean put the Impala in drive and pulled out of the gas station, chuckling to himself. Sometimes, everything went to crap, but sometimes, everything turned out okay.


End file.
